


The Silent Truth

by factorielle



Category: Suikoden Tierkreis
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Partial amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-28
Updated: 2009-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-09 15:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/factorielle/pseuds/factorielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: SHAMS/TAJ, Taj is secretly in love with his prince. Shams finds out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Silent Truth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suikoden tierkreis kink meme](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=suikoden+tierkreis+kink+meme).



What happened?

Shams remembers some of the facts, clear and precise against the fog of his thoughts. There's a still frame of him and the others crossing Gineh Valley on their way to the mountain, the air heavy and humid, choking in a way it never did at home, focusing his thoughts on putting one foot in front of the other, and ignoring the sweat and the mosquitoes. Then the ambush, the monster never encountered before, coming at him before any of them had the time to react.

Then a swirl of color, then nothing until now, when the void gives way to sound.

He's laying down, this much he can tell. He can't open his eyes, can't tell the people talking around him that he's awake and fine and there is no need to worry. His body won't move, so all he can do is listen.

They are voices he knows, all of them. He can even place a name on a few of them: Manaril and someone speaking with great authority, close to him, in low whispers. Further away, but much louder, is Taj. Shams hears every word and understands none, because words don't seem to make sense at the moment, but the tone tells him that Taj is angry, and scared enough to be loud, to be rude. It's strange, a little unsettling because he always thought that nothing could faze Taj unless Shams himself was in danger, and he's right here, he's fine, even if he can't say a words and can't move and can't concentrate.

Then the voice that had been talking to Manaril booms like that of an angry god, and a moment later all is silent. Devoid of stimulus to keep him awake, Shams falls back into the void.  


* * *

"...don't know yet..."  
"... usually both ailments..."  
"...unexpectedly resilient. The poison repels..."  
"...paralysis is preventing the antitoxin from..."  
"...virtually forever, but..."  
"...fight it off himself."  


* * *

He wakes up a few times, becomes aware of his surroundings, but they don't seem to notice and he doesn't know how much time passes. It could be mere minutes or it could be months, and all he has are voices he only barely understands. But he recognizes them, sometimes. Zahra. Manaril. Asad. Taj. They talk around him, and he wonders if they've been instructed to, if it's supposed to give him something to hang onto.

"...failed in my duty to protect him." He feels something, Shams realizes suddenly. It's more than just sound now, there's a hand loosely wrapped around his and he can't tell if it's Taj or if it's Manaril but either way it's good, yet not good enough.

"Duty? Is it no more than that?" She sounds disappointed, almost sad. Shams doesn't like it. Manaril should be happy, should be able to smile, always. He swore he would give her a life where she could. "I have seen you watch him, when he is safe. I always thought that you loved him very much."

"Princess..."

The hand tightens around his.

"Ah! I'm sorry! It was not my intention to pry, I only thought..." Manaril falls silent, and Shams wants them to stop, this argument that is not an argument, wants the two of them to get along, always.

They say nothing. He doesn't know for how long, knows nothing but the hand that he can't squeeze back.

"Please do not tell anyone." When Taj speaks he sounds distant. Sad, also.

"Doesn't my brother deserve to know?"

He wants to tell them, _I know_, only he isn't sure what they are talking about, what it is that Taj is trying to hide from him. He should be getting more from this, but understanding requires so much energy. Even listening is difficult, painful.

"Such feelings are inappropriate, and the prince should not be burdened with them. My only wish is to serve him."

"I understand," Manaril says.

Shams doesn't.  


* * *

The first time he manages to move, he opens his eyes to find more darkness. Opens his mouth to find he can barely emit more than a wheezy breath that stops within seconds.

It's enough for the nurse to come to his side. She makes him sit up, helps him swallow a few precious gulps of water laced with something sweet. Takes his temperature as she asks questions which he answers by nodding or shaking his head, unable to do anything more. After what feels like an eternity, she tells him she will get the doctor; he manages to keep his eyes open until she leaves the room.

The second time, the light is too bright and there are too many people around his bedside to count. He seeks Manaril first, finds her seated at the foot of the bed, arms wrapped around the knees drawn to her chest. Then Taj, standing protectively behind her. It's enough for relief, for relaxing back against the pillows and listening to Lord Sieg's boisterous claims that he was sure Shams would pull through, then the doctor's order for everyone to just leave, leave now and let him work.

It's all uphill from there.  


* * *

"What is it with the people in this company refusing bed rest?" Zahra bellows a few days later. Shams is still a little weak, but he can walk around by himself now, and doesn't see the need to keep either the doctor or the nurse watching over him at all times. Following Eunice's advice, he lets the rant run its course and nods meekly in the appropriate lulls. "Ah, whatever. It isn't like you were an interesting patient anyway."

"Doctor!" Eunice scolds, while winking at Shams from behind her clipboard. "Please discharge the patient and let him go."

Taj is standing at the door when he finally gets out, escorts him back to their room. All is as it should be, but something nags at Shams' mind, something important that he should be remembering.

It doesn't click until dinner, when Manaril leaves her research long enough to come down for dinner and exchanges a greeting with Taj. They were talking. About what, he can't remember no matter how much he scours his brain, but suddenly things appear to him in a new light.

Everywhere Shams looks he sees mutual reliance, quiet companionship. It's Lathilda's hand in Bosche's hair as she reads to him during his afternoon nap, it's the conversations between Resno and Vaslof that don't carry to anyone further than a foot from them, it's Liu dismissing food and sleep until Luo-Tao nudges him. All things that always seemed incidental to him, not worthy of notice. Things have always been like this here, free of the constant self-scrutinizing he grew up with in the Imperial Court. He'd yearned for it, thought he'd embraced it.

But between him and Taj there are no silent exchanges, no lingering touches.

No touches at all, he realizes at one point, when a stray _it must have been Manaril holding my hand_ thought emerges the haze of those things he can't remember. Taj watches over him, always present, never overbearing. He doesn't make a show of holding a door, stepping in front of a source of light if Shams winces at the brightness, sending food up to the library when it's the middle of the afternoon and Manaril hasn't come down for lunch. He answers most needs before they're even formulated, but that's all there is: Taj serves him from afar despite being right here and the more he notices it, the more Shams becomes haunted with the longing to touch him. To be allowed the discrete way Chrodechild leans against Meruvis when she's too tired to stand on her own.

He wakes up one night from nothing he can remember, jumping from slumber to perfect awareness of his surroundings, and he's alone in the room. Manaril is away for the next month, off to Mount Svagol and Lugenik beyond it, which makes Shams uncomfortable, even with the knowledge that Sieg will take care of her. Taj is...

Not here.

But he was, earlier, so Shams gets up and throws on the overly large linen shirt and pants that Erin leaves at the disposal of every room in the inn. It isn't proper dress for the King of Salsabil, but nobody will care, here, in the dead of night, even though the absence of the heavy jewelry around his neck makes him feel strangely vulnerable.

He finds Taj seconds later, curled on the benches right outside the in, gazing out at the lake through the cascading water. He's so deep in his contemplation that Shams is two steps away from him when he jumps in surprise and straightens up, in a way oddly reminiscent of Asad. It makes Shams cringe, the distance, the etiquette between them and the knowledge that it's always been there and he only just noticed.

"Shall I get some herbal tea from the kitchen?" As though he has no other value to Shams than the services he provides.

"I have had enough sleep lately that a few less hours won't kill me." There's no other excuse for his words than the dissatisfaction that has nested deep inside him, and even that isn't a good one because a shadow passes over Taj's face, and he looks away as though stricken.

Guilt doesn't settle well on top of everything else, and Shams gives in, reaches out to squeeze Taj's shoulder; the skin feels warm under his hands. "Please do not blame yourself for what happened to me. It could not have been avoided."

Taj looks back at him. Shams wishes he hadn't: he's never seen him look so lost. So scared. "If I had only been there..."

"You would either have been unable to do anything, or been hit in my place. Do you think that is what I want?" His hand lingers on Taj's shoulder, as though something terrible will happen if they're not touching, as though he'll drown back into the haze without that anchor.

"It is my duty to protect you. To die in your place, if need be."

_Is it no more than that? _He hears an echo of the answer that is so close to what he feels. It stirs his memory, unlocks something. "You were so angry." Shams shakes his head. "When they brought me in, you were..." Something clicks into place, a moment of amused comprehension. "Were you cursing at Lord Sieg?"

Taj stiffens. "I apologized to him, later. Do you... do you remember what happened when you were...?"

_I always thought_

"Some things. Fragments, mostly nonsensical." But something is closing in, something momentous that he can't quite reach yet.

_I always thought_

Relief spreads on Taj's face, and everything falls into place.

_Please do not tell anyone_

_I always thought that you loved him very much._

"But parts of it make perfect sense," he breathes out, and his hand moves to the back of Taj's neck, to hold him in place as he moves closer, and leans in.

It only lasts a second. When he pulls back, Taj's eyes are wider than he's ever seen them, and he seems incapable of speech.

So Shams kisses him again.


End file.
